


Backstage

by plutosrose



Series: Kickstart My Heart [1]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Anal Fingering, Bands, Bottom Bucky Barnes, Captain America Steve Rogers/Modern Bucky Barnes, Daddy Kink, Face-Sitting, M/M, Rimming, Rock Stars, Service Top Steve, Singer!Bucky, Tattooed Bucky Barnes, slightly PWP
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-18
Updated: 2020-12-18
Packaged: 2021-03-10 16:49:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,026
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28140417
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/plutosrose/pseuds/plutosrose
Summary: Steve gets set up with a gorgeous rock star. It takes him 0.27 seconds to be totally gone on him.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers
Series: Kickstart My Heart [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2091822
Comments: 19
Kudos: 266





	Backstage

One morning, Tony had walked up to his floor in the Tower with a bundle of files and photos in his arms. “I’m here to change your life,” he’d announced before Steve had been able to get a word in edgewise. 

Steve blinked at him. “Good morning to you too.” 

Tony pushed past him and started arranging the files in his arms in neat piles. “Since you told Natasha that you’re looking for someone with shared life experience, I have assembled a list of only the most suitable celebrities to date Captain America.” 

Steve blinked at Tony again. “You know, when I told Natasha that I wanted to date someone with ‘shared life experience,’ I didn’t mean celebrity. I couldn’t care less if whoever I was dating was a celebrity or not. Besides, I’m pretty sure that was a private conversation.” 

Tony rolled his eyes. “This is the Avengers, Cap, literally nothing is private. I could get access to your medical records if I wanted to.”

Steve raised an eyebrow at him. “Pretty sure that would be a national security breach and just illegal in general, but continue.” 

“Anyway,” Tony clasped his hands together. “I’ve devised a seventeen-step plan that will lead to you meeting your perfect match, and have a list of everyone that I’ve deemed eligible here.” 

Natasha, who had apparently taken advantage of the door being open for .35 seconds, popped up out of nowhere and slapped a picture of James “Bucky” Barnes, the current lead singer of a band called Forty-Five in the middle of the table. 

“Jesus Christ,” Tony jumped. “Can’t you knock or announce your presence or something?” 

“I made plenty of noise,” Natasha deadpanned, before pointing at the picture of Bucky a second time. “He’s perfect for Steve.”

Steve, whose jaw had dropped the moment that he had laid eyes on a shirtless Bucky in suspenders, didn’t answer. In fact, he was fairly confident that his entire brain had left the building.

-

After Natasha had introduced them, Steve had just been even more gone. It had taken a Herculean effort to get through one coffee date, and then when it became clear that they were going to have a lot more coffee dates (because he really wasn’t going to let someone this gorgeous and talented go and apparently Bucky felt the same way), Steve had been upfront that he didn’t want to subject someone he was dating to the media circus that was sure to happen once the media found out that Captain America was officially off the market (Which, if someone had told him that he would one day be so famous that the goddamn newspapers and the future’s online blogs would care about who he was dating back in the 1940s, he would have slapped them.) 

Bucky had understood, and said that while he was out, he preferred to keep a relationship with whoever he was seeing private. (“Being in the tabloids a couple of times is fun for people, but it tends to get old when photographers are following us everywhere.”)

“Besides,” Bucky had said, eyes running up and down Steve’s body. “I’d want to keep you all to myself, Daddy.”

For a brief second, Steve was pretty certain that he was still in the Valkyrie, somewhere in the Arctic, having the best fucking dream. “Oh my God,” was all he could get out. 

And if it was a dream, it had honestly only gotten better, because Bucky had then dropped to his knees and pressed a kiss against his crotch, and murmured, “Daddy, do you want to give me something to do with my mouth?”

Frankly, he had practically burst into flames and come so much that Bucky had practically cooed against his skin. “You’re so messy, Daddy,” and a wave of shame and humiliation so intense had rolled up his spine that he’d practically come a second time, right there. 

-

He liked getting coffee with Bucky. He liked learning new recipes and making dinner for him in his apartment to try and impress him. 

But the best thing, by far, had to be watching Bucky perform with his band. It was just about the only place he could go where he wouldn't be stopped for autographs, because the people there weren’t interested in seeing him, they wanted to see Bucky. They wanted an autograph from Bucky. He was just some guy in the crowd, wearing a t-shirt from Forty-Five’s latest tour like a bunch of other guys in the crowd. He hadn’t felt this anonymous since 1942, and the feeling was positively liberating. It was just him, out there supporting his best guy. 

-

That night, Forty-Five was playing in Madison Square Garden, and Bucky had passed him a couple of VIP backstage passes. Actually, he hadn’t so much as passed them to him, as he had reached over and put them around his neck when they were both naked and whispered in his ear, “You going to come and see my show, Daddy? It’s going to be really good.” 

Steve shivered at the thought. 

When the show ended and Bucky and his band took their bows, Steve made his way to the security line that led backstage. He barely had to show his badge before the security guard gave him a nod of acknowledgment and let him through.

Bucky passed him in the hall, and touched his arm gently. “See you in a bit--go swing by my dressing room.” 

Steve had walked, practically in a trance, to Bucky’s dressing room and let himself inside. 

He sat down on the couch, and even after weeks of doing this together, he couldn’t quite get comfortable when he was sitting there by himself. He’d shift from left to right, then fold and unfold his hands, rub his thighs, and tap on his knees until he finally heard the door open again. 

When Bucky came back in, though, that was the best moment, because he was smiling, always this coy half-smile that was far more personal than when he was signing autographs and taking pictures with fans. 

Any smile you could get from Bucky was precious, as far as he was concerned, because who could look at Bucky--with his large blue-gray eyes, sharp jaw, and thick, dark hair, and who wrote lyrics that were sexy, personal, and also deeply meaningful--and not feel like they were on top of the world? 

“Just going to change, Daddy,” Bucky murmured, and Steve nodded, eyes raking over his mascara, where his hair had gotten loose from his up-do, and then back down across his shiny chest, and then down further to his leather pants, and he was pretty sure that he’d made some kind of involuntary “hngh” noise because he’d been in the future for years now and leather pants still got him feeling some type of way.

Bucky eased the suspenders down and peeled off his pants, before wrapping a silk robe around himself. For the briefest second, his eyes focused on a tattoo on Bucky’s forearm that said ‘Winter Soldier.’ He knew from talking to Natasha that at one point, Bucky had been in the military. 

Bucky didn’t talk about it. 

Bucky sat in his lap, smooth silk pooling at his sides, as he reached out to run a finger along Steve’s jaw. “Did you like the show, Daddy?”

“You know I loved it,” Steve managed. He tried to shift his hips a little, but it only succeeded in getting Bucky to rub against him harder, and a groan got lodged in his throat.

Bucky reached down between them to palm his cock. Steve shivered. “Oh yeah, what was your favorite part?”

“Shit,” Steve bit out, and Bucky laughed.

“I don’t think that was one of the songs, Daddy.”

Bucky cooing at him in a sing-song tone always fucked him up without fail. Steve chased his mouth, only for Bucky to press a finger against his lips. 

“I have plans for you,” he murmured against his skin, burying his face in the crook of his neck. “Do you want to know what they are?”

“Yes,” Steve breathed, chasing Bucky’s mouth, only to again be denied. 

“You’re going to lie down right here, and I’m going to sit on your face.”

Steve’s eyes widened, and he was pretty sure that he had just ascended to another plane of existence. “And?”

“And,” Bucky continued, lightly grinding his hips against him. “If you’re good, if you are really good, Daddy, I’ll jerk you off.”

Steve had never taken his pants off faster in his entire life, including the times in his life when he’d had to change clothes in a literal war zone. 

Steve’s hand came up, tracing the red star that was on Bucky’s neck. “I’m going to be so good, Buck.” 

Bucky leaned back to peel off his briefs and shimmied up Steve’s body as Steve’s head hit the pillow on the couch. When Bucky was settled, he pressed teasing kisses against his perineum, nosing the soft skin there, before he pressed a kiss against his hole.

He started alternating between licking and kissing, before he let his tongue sink inside Bucky. The way that Bucky was shaking in his grasp and whimpering made Steve feel a desperation burning underneath his skin. 

He reached up and wrapped his hands around Bucky’s thighs, holding him in place, which makes Bucky let out a needy moan. “That’s it,” Bucky murmured, grinding down against his face. Steve could barely breathe, and he really didn't care. “This all for me, Stevie? You’re so good at taking care of me, Daddy.”

Steve moaned against Bucky’s skin--he was achingly hard at this point, and it was taking all of his self-control not to touch himself for a little relief. Instead, he worked a finger inside Bucky, which made him moan even louder. God, he would tear the world apart for that sound.

“Oh fuck, Daddy, you’re so good to me,” Bucky moaned, reaching back to stroke Steve’s cock. “You gonna make me come? Yeah, you’re gonna make me come before you do, right?”

A whimper escaped Steve’s lips–he tried to think of as many unsexy things as he possibly could, but it was really impossible when Bucky was sitting on his face and stroking his cock and murmuring sweet filth. He was pretty sure if he heard, “Daddy’s going to make me come,” one more time, he was going to die. 

The only solution, which Bucky probably already knew, was to make him come first, so he sped up his efforts, licking and sucking at his hole, and pressing and rubbing his finger against Bucky’s prostate until he came like a shot, come landing on his face and the couch.

“God, Daddy, that was perfect,” and that was all Bucky had to say before hot arousal coiled tightly in his abdomen, and he was coming, and coming hard. 

When Bucky leaned in and licked the come off of his cheek, before kissing him deep and filthy, Steve couldn’t help but groan. “If you’re not careful I’m going to be ready to go again in like thirty seconds.” 

“You are something else, Captain,” Bucky laughed, as he curled up against him. 

“You know you don’t have to call me that, right?” Steve asked, raising an eyebrow. 

Bucky hummed to himself. “I think it’s cute, though. Kind of suits you.” 

And well, Steve didn’t exactly have a counterargument for that one. 

“But you know, I think I like Daddy better,” Bucky grinned.

“Jesus, Buck,” Steve murmured, pressing a kiss against his lips that soon had them panting into each other’s mouths.

Bucky shifted to straddle him again. “I don’t think we have time here, Daddy, but...if you come home with me, I promise to ride you.”

And Steve looked between the Chaos tattoo on Bucky’s abdomen, down to where Bucky was drawing circles on his skin, and didn’t hesitate.

“You got it, Buck. Anything you want,” Steve breathed. 

If the future meant being totally at the beck and call of a super gorgeous rock star, then he was more than fine with it.


End file.
